


light those stars in your eyes (like fireworks in the sky)

by misura



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: F/M, Jossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Manizheh crashes Nahri's wedding.





	light those stars in your eyes (like fireworks in the sky)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shoemaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoemaster/gifts).



Nahri had expected her wedding to be a spectacle, but she hadn't, quite, expected it to be this much of one. The mountains of food, yes. The hordes of guests, absolutely.

Her mother, showing up with an all too familiar figure at her back - not even for a moment.

(Well. Maybe Nahri had permitted herself to dream, in her heart of hearts, to fantasize for a few seconds that Dara would appear, miraculously brought back to life and ready to protect her against anything and anyone. She'd known very well that it had only been a fantasy, though, a daydream.)

"Peace be upon you," Manizheh said, smiling. It wasn't a nice smile, Nahri thought.

Dara looked furious. _But alive!_ Nahri thanked the Most High for her veil. It meant she didn't need to worry about the expression on her face. _Dara is alive!_ She wanted to run over there and throw herself into his arms. She wanted to yell at him, at both of them, to run away.

The king still bore Suleiman's seal, after all, and he did not look at all happy at the interruption.

"Manizheh. Have you come to see your daughter wedded? Of course, had we but known you still lived, we would have gladly invited you."

"Yes, and no doubt you would have been pleased to receive my head as a confirmation that I would not be attending," Manizheh said. Several of the guests looked shocked but, Nahri noticed, not all that many of them.

If her mother had hoped for public support, perhaps she should have worked a little less hard on gaining a reputation for cruelty. _Of course, that might have been the king's doing._ Nahri remembered her conversations with Nisreen, her own ignorance of what went on outside the palace, of what people were being told about her and her healing abilities.

_Surely, if she were a terrible person, Dara would not be with her._

Muntadhir put a hand on her arm. For a moment, Nahri thought he planned to drag her out of the room by force, to prevent her from escaping, but then he bent his head and whispered, "If you get the chance, run. This is going to get ugly."

Nahri nodded once. She did intend to run, after all. Just not in the direction Muntadhir expected her to.

"If you have concerns about your safety, I will be happy to discuss them with you. After the festivities." The king raised a hand in a gesture that might have appeared peaceful, a signal to the guards to back off. It also reminded everyone present that he wore Suleiman's seal, though.

_She must have a plan. Dara wouldn't have come here without a plan._ Nahri reconsidered, then amended her thought to, _Well, Dara might, if he lost his temper, but someone who already cheated death twice has to be too smart for that, right?_

Manizheh didn't look very impressed or intimidated. "I didn't come here for a discussion, Ghassan."

"Excellent. Then please, sit down. Behave as befits a guest."

"I came to save my daughter from the same fate you would have forced on me," Manizheh said.

The king scoffed. "What nonsense is this? You are raving, Manizheh. Perhaps you are ill. Or perhaps one who doesn't have Daevabad's best interests at heart has been poisoning your mind."

"You are right." Manizheh lowered her eyes. Nahri wondered if anyone was fooled. The king tensed; clearly, he knew very well Manizheh had no intention of confirming that yes, now that he mentioned it, she did feel a bit feverish and would like to lie down for a bit. "Nahri isn't just _my_ daughter, is she? She's yours as well. And you would have her marry her own half-brother!"

_What?_ Nahri felt the blood drain from her face, before reason reasserted itself. It was a brilliant accusation. A great ploy. A perfect distraction. _But that's all it is. Isn't it?_

"Lies," the king said. "I never laid a hand on you."

Nahri could tell that a number of guests _might_ have believed that she wasn't the king's daughter. Very few of them believed the second part of the king's statement, though. And that, in turn, meant that they were beginning to wonder if maybe Manizheh's other accusation was true, too.

_And then Dara dared lecture me about the purity and honor of the Nahids._ Whatever the truth of the stories about her mother, Manizheh was clearly a masterful con artist. _But the king still has Suleiman's Seal. And Dara's just one man against a whole lot of guards._ Nahri had already seen Dara die in front of her eyes once; she never wanted to live through that again.

"Words are cheap, Ghassan," Manizheh said. "How about some proof? Do you swear, in front of all these people, that if my daughter wished to leave, you would permit her to do so?"

Nahri held her breath. She had played her part well, she thought. And Manizheh hadn't left Ghassan with any other choice.

"Oh, so now Nahri's _your_ daughter again, is she?" the king said. "I thought she was mine, too."

"Swear, Ghassan. Or admit the truth of my words to everyone where, and be known as the monster and tyrant you are."

"Very well." The king shrugged. "If Nahri wishes to go with you, I will not stop her."

Muntadhir exhaled.

Nahri realized that everyone in the room was looking at her. _What am I supposed to do?_ She knew what she _wanted_ to do, but she also knew that oath or not, the king would be unlikely to simply let the last two Nahids slip through his fingers, to say nothing of Dara.

Perhaps, if she pretended that she really did want to marry Muntadhir, she'd be able to keep Dara and her mother safe. Admittedly, Nahri had never even _met_ her mother before today, but ... _there are so many things I want to ask her._

And then she looked at Dara, and Dara looked back at her, and Nahri knew that no matter how good a liar she was, she didn't want to spend the rest of her life living a lie. She wanted Dara.

"I'm sorry," she told Muntadhir, soft enough so that he would be the only one to hear her. She knew that he didn't love her, but he had done his best to get to know her, to become her friend. To forgive her for what had happened to his brother.

Every step Nahri took away from the dais felt like it took forever. At any moment, she expected the king to order his guards to do something, to stop her.

Manizheh smiled at Nahri as she reached their side of the room. "My dear daughter. At last we are reunited."

"As I have promised, Nahri is free to leave." The king gestured. "The same does not apply to you and your companion. Surrender peacefully, and I promise that you will receive a fair trial."

Manizheh laughed. "Ah, Ghassan. Always so predictable. Try, then. Shall we see how long it will take Darayavahoush to slaughter all of your guards? And a few of your guests as well, perhaps?"

The room only had two exits. Dara was blocking one of them, the guards the other. Nahri felt a little sick. _'This is going to get ugly.'_ Muntadhir had been right after all.

"You forget, I carry Suleiman's seal," the king said.

"Did I?" Manizheh raised her right hand, so that everyone in the room saw the ring that was a perfect copy of the one on the king's hand. "Are you sure that what you carry isn't a fake? Remember, my family has held the Seal for a long time. We are the one Suleiman entrusted it to, after all. Its rightful owners. You merely stole it. Did you think it would not be reclaimed one day?"

The king hesitated. Nahri knew, then, that he'd lost and that her mother had won. _For now, anyway._ She wondered which of the seals was the real one.

One of the guards screamed, clutching at his stomach.

Manizheh deliberately turned her back on the king and walked out of the room, gesturing for Nahri to follow. Dara remained, facing the king and his guests and the guards for a moment longer, before he followed them.

"Chin up and back straight, daughter dear," Manizheh said. "If they're going to put an arrow in it, you can't stop them anyway. And if not, you don't want them to think you were afraid even for a moment."

Dara made a sound.

Manizheh smiled. "I'm only joking, of course. Darayavahoush would never permit such a thing to happen. So, you see, there is nothing at all to worry about. You won't have to get married to that sand fly, and you have your mother to take care of you now. Not that you look to be in much need of being taken care of," she added, "but the way Dara was going on and on, I half-expected to find you locked in a dungeon, about to starve to death or the like."

Nahri glanced back at Dara. His expression gave away nothing. _Is the king really my father? Is the ring on your finger the real seal? Did you send the ifrit who nearly killed us?_

When they reached the palace gate, Manizheh pulled the seal from her finger and tossed it into a bush. Nahri supposed that answered one of her questions, at least.

"Now, let's find you some less conspicuous clothes, shall we? And perhaps a bit of food and a nice place to take a nap."

Nahri blinked. "Shouldn't we be leaving the city as soon as we can?"

Manizheh smiled at her. "And miss the revolution and ensuing overthrow of the hated Qahtani tyrants? Don't be silly. Keep in mind, you may not have married a prince, but you're still a princess. One of these days, this city may very well be yours. Something to think about, hm?"

"We're being followed," Dara said.

"Already? Take care of it, will you? No need to be gentle. This is war, after all, and Ghassan has just lost his best pawn." Manizheh grinned, showing teeth. "Time to start making him bleed."


End file.
